


You've Got Mail

by mosylu



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Epistolary, F/M, Neighbors AU, quarantine au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26023075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosylu/pseuds/mosylu
Summary: It's hard enough to meet your neighbors. When the whole world is in quarantine, it's even harder. But with the help of good old-fashioned pen and paper, it's not impossible.Written for Killervibe Week 2020, the Meet Cute theme.
Relationships: Cisco Ramon/Caitlin Snow
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23
Collections: Killervibedaily Events





	You've Got Mail

**Author's Note:**

> Based on something that happened to a Facebook connection of mine, although as far as I know it didn’t turn out this cute.

The first note was stuck to Caitlin’s door with a piece of scotch tape. She frowned and unfolded it, wondering if the new neighbor already had a problem with her erratic hours. 

_Hi!_ (read the computer-printed note)

_I just moved into 202 and wanted to introduce myself to all my neighbors. I’m Cisco Ramon and I’m starting my Masters’ in electrical engineering at the university in a couple of months. Normally I’d knock and say hi but this whole quarantine thing kinda keeps me from doing that. :(_

_I speak English and Spanish and a little bit of Klingon. I cook sometimes but mostly get too much takeout so any good restaurant recommendations are welcome! I like tinkering and video games and SF/F books and movies and shows, like you couldn’t tell from the Klingon. I have a cat named Buttercup who is a giant butt and I love him. If you see him outside, I’d really appreciate it if you called or texted because he’s not an outdoor kitty._

He’d added a picture of the cat, staring menacingly at the camera as if promising that anyone who tried to pet him would lose a finger. Caitlin smiled in spite of herself. 

_Hope you have a great day! Cisco Ramon, Apt 202_

He’d also added his phone number.

Caitlin read it through a couple of times before looking across the courtyard and up a floor at 202. It being 11:30 at night, the door was shut tight. There was a muted bluish flicker in one of the windows, like he was watching TV. It would be rude to knock on his door at this time of night. 

Also, they were all practicing social distancing right now.

Caitlin was a champ at social distancing. She could social-distance on Olympic levels.

She went into her apartment, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

On her way to the hospital the next morning, she left a plastic container full of cookies on the mat of 202. There was a note carefully taped to the top. 

_Thank you for your nice note. Here are some cookies to welcome you to the building. They’re chocolate chip. If you can’t eat them, it’s okay to throw them away. I’ve been baking a lot in quarantine._

She was halfway to the hospital when she realized she hadn’t put her name or apartment number on the note. So for all Cisco Ramon knew, some anonymous benefactor had dropped cookies on his doorstep.

She sighed. She really was bad at this, just like Jay had said.

* * *

There was another note on her door when she got back home, this one hand-written in a sprawling, jagged scrawl.

_Hello Cookie Queen!_

_I hope I’m not creeping you out or anything. I saw you through the window, leaving the cookies this morning, but I didn’t want to freak you out by opening up the door right away._

_They were delicious. I will happily eat any baked goods that you want to get rid of. That’s not a beg, by the way. I can make my own cookies, once I find a good grocery store. (Any recommendations?) Just if you’re the kind of person who likes to make entire batches and then has to eat them for the next three weeks, I can help with that. I don’t have any allergies or anything._

_Anyway I think I’ve weirded you out enough for one note._

_Cisco_

* * *

_Hi Cisco_

_My name is Caitlin Snow and you already know my apartment number. The grocery store I like is the Safeway at the corner of Livingston and Bellmore because they are very firm about masks and disinfecting right now, much better than the Kroger. Also closer. There’s a Taco Galaxy across the street from them that delivers until midnight and I like their chicken taco salad._

She stared at the note for a few minutes, then wondered if he would think she was saying a Mexican place because he was clearly Latino. She crossed out and substituted _The Golden Wok on Bellmore delivers, and they do a good sweet and sour chicken._

_I am a first-year resident so my hours are kind of strange but please let me know if I can ever help out with anything._

_Caitlin, Apt 106_

She chewed her lip for a moment, then added to the last paragraph before the sign-off, _I wasn’t weirded out._

Then she wrote it out in pen on a clean sheet of paper and found another plastic container to fill with butterscotch oatmeal cookies.

* * *

_Hi Caitlin!_

_Nice to have a name and stop calling you Cookie Queen. Unless you want me to continue calling you Cookie Queen, that’s okay too. Thank you for the second batch! Just as delish._

_I took your tip about the grocery store and stocked up. Also got green pepper beef at the Golden Wok. Nom, nom, nom! Any ruling on the Taco Galaxy across from Safeway?_

_I’m major impressed with the residency thing btw. Are you doing okay? Is your ICU totally packed? I have a sewing machine because I do cosplay but obvi no cons right now, so I’ve been making masks and stuff too. Do you need any?_

_Cisco_

* * *

_Cisco,_

_We’re doing okay right now. I’m not treating many COVID cases personally because I’m in my first year, but everybody is doing more than they would have normally. If you have extra cloth masks, I know some shelters and the local food bank are distributing them._

_I like the chicken taco salad at Taco Galaxy._

She paused, studying the note. She wanted to continue this conversation. She liked him - his warmth and his humor. Maybe she should start texting him. She had his phone number, after all. Or would that be weird?

She wrote down, _Where did you move from?_

_Caitlin_

* * *

They traded notes back and forth, at least once a day but more often twice. Their correspondence ranged from the mundane - he’d moved from Coast City, she had come here from Gotham - to the personal - neither of them had very good relationships with their families - to the downright philosophical.

_I dunno,_ he wrote one rainy day, _I feel like the people who say this is God’s punishment or whatever are totally getting God wrong. Like I don’t believe in God anymore but if I still did, I don’t think I’d believe in that kind of God._

_A virus is a virus,_ she wrote back. _There’s debate about whether a virus really counts as alive or not, but it’s just doing what all life does. The pandemic is definitely down to human hubris and selfishness and shortsightedness. No need for divine punishment. And I don’t believe in that kind of God either._

At work, she would mentally compose parts of her next letter during her rare free moments, and every time something funny or strange or horrible happened at the hospital, she found herself telling him about it. No names, of course, because of HIPAA, but writing them down helped her work them out.

The day he mentioned his most recent ex, she caught her breath, a strange flutter in her stomach.

_She did a number on me, I’m telling you. It’s weird because I do think she liked me, maybe as much as I liked her. It’s just she was in some bad stuff with her brother, and she wasn’t really interested in getting out. When I realized that she was using me to help him out, I was done. Probably way after I should’ve been, but that was the last straw. I’m not saying that breakup was why I picked CCU for grad school and moved here two months early but I’m not NOT saying that._

She lay on her couch reading the note over again. His tone was cheerful, as it usually was, but she could almost feel the regret and self-recrimination behind it. 

Also, did this mean he was single? He hadn’t wrapped it up with any other mention of someone else he was dating now. 

_I know what that’s like,_ she wrote back. _My most recent ex was -_

She lifted her pen and stared at the paper. How to describe Jay?

_My breakup with my ex was pretty bad too. You just start to doubt everything that you ever thought or felt. Like, is this real or is this another time bomb he put in your head?_

_God RIGHT_ he wrote back. _The good exes leave nice little presents for you in your head. You think of them because you see a movie they liked or something they used to wear and it just makes you smile. But the bad ones leave freaking land mines and time bombs._

* * *

More than once, she arrived home to find a bag of takeout or a tupperware full of some recipe he’d tried out. His tastes were a little more adventurous than hers, but she willingly ate whatever he left. Knowing somebody was thinking about her was as nourishing as the meal. 

And some of it was really good. 

She kept baking, leaving cookies and bread and other treats at his doorstep. Sometimes she experimented, too. 

One day as the first leaves were turning, she left a jar with a note taped to the top. _I decided to try something. Let me know if Buttercup likes these._

She got a reply within hours. 

_Buttercup would like to formally request to move into your apartment now, because I’m a terrible kitty papa and never thought of making him treats. Also I’m very cruel because I won’t let him eat the entire jar no matter how much he yells. You are a genius._

She laughed and wrote back, _Obviously you’re an excellent kitty papa because you love Buttercup very much. It was a pretty simple recipe. I’ll attach it for you so you can make your own. I’m glad he likes them._

She didn’t see a reply on her door that night. This wasn’t unprecedented, though it was unusual, and she found herself cycling through a few anxious loops of what-if - what if he was sick? what if he had nothing more to say to her? what if it had been just too weird for her to make treats for his cat? what if he was talking to someone else now?

But the next day when she went out to get her mail, she found a note tucked into her screen door. She grabbed it and opened it up. 

_Hey I realize this is kind of a weird question since we’ve been passing notes all this time, but would you be okay with texting? Or FaceTiming or WhatsApp or something? I don’t know if you kept my number but here it is again anyway._

She read the short note through a couple of times, trying to identify the feeling bubbling up in her stomach. 

She did like writing the letters. There was something so calming and old-fashioned about sitting down with paper and pen and writing everything out that was on her mind. And getting a letter back felt like a present. 

But on the other hand, this felt like a step toward something … new. Something more. Closer. 

She looked up at 202. A curtain twitched, and she caught her breath. Cisco leaned against the glass, spotted her, and lifted his hand in a wave. 

She waved back. 

She’d seen him a couple of times, leaving something at her door or going to grab his mail. She liked his face and his smile, what she’d seen of them. 

He saw the note in her hand. That much was obvious. Even from here, he looked a little nervous. Or maybe that was her, projecting. 

She pulled her phone from her pocket and tapped in his number. He looked away from the window, reached out to grab something, and lifted his phone to his ear.

“Hi,” she said shyly. “It’s Caitlin.”

His smile spread over his face, big enough to bathe her in warmth from one floor and a whole courtyard away. “Hi, Caitlin,” he said. “Cisco here.”

She smiled back. “So. How’s your day going?”

It would be a long time before they actually got to meet in person, without a mask. But she was looking forward to it.

FINIS


End file.
